Happy anniversary

EDIT: I actually wrote this is August but didnt post it because I like to sit on it and review it. A senior moment/forgetfulness happened so here it is 2 months late.

I’m not sure why exactly, but it’s a hard day. I made the choice to leave the life I built. And I know its the right thing to have left. But it’s my 41st anniversary.

I spent part of the day clearing out the barn with the cowboy to get ready for an estate/garage sale. Most of the stuff is his, tools, fishing gear, stuff collected over 4 decades. So much STUFF.

Neither of us addressed the elephant in the room. Happy anniversary seems… I don’t know, ill conceived, ingenuine. So we both ignored it. Meanwhile, we both suffered through whatever this is.

If anyone ever tells you, divorce means nothing, just do it, yada, yada, yada. It isn’t easy. Period.

I haven’t even filed yet. I will. Do I know why I’m waiting? No not really. But this is who I’ve been for more of my life than not. I’m ready to move on. But there’s this physical thing that’s messing with my head (broken wrist, see other post) I’m vulnerable and struggling. Not who I was last Feb when I left. I will give it time. Time is what I have but also what is a precious commodity at my age.

I’m not sure how to navigate this. To be sad, to be happy, to be free. All of it.

Ok enough ramblings by a Riley for tonight. Thank you for listening to you of those still there.

Advertisement

5 years in

Thank goodness for Facebook memory reminders. A former co-worker/friend posted a picture from 5 years ago on my retirement day. I’m kinda surprised I didn’t remember! I guess that I have moved so far past working that I forgot. That or now that the real estate market has dove into the depths of hell as I try to sell our house, I was distracted. That is another whole blog post….

I sat this evening at my friend’s, reminiscing about our mutual work experience. I LOVED my job. It filled me up, gave me purpose, I felt loved, needed, important. There’s a real transition going from that to no one cares if you show up, if you shower, if you brush your teeth. Okay maybe not that, as a retired dental hygienist….

So here’s life now: I get up, help a 10 year old make her lunch. If I say too much, I get “I know, gramma!” Did I mention I’m not allowed out of the car at the bus stop?

Some days I subject myself to the stuff I’ve tried to get away from by “helping” do things at the house I love to hate, that will never sell and haunt me the rest of my days. Oh wait, that’s the next post, right? Stay tuned for that, don’t want to miss THAT. I digress….

So here I am. 5 years in. Not exactly what I pictured. But in some ways, exactly what I pictured. A full, wonderful career behind me and a full, wonderful life ahead of me but in a different way.